


Raptor Rescue

by Skarla



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Unexpected Discoveries, Ventilation Shafts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 17:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15175448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skarla/pseuds/Skarla
Summary: Clint hears a noise which bears investigation, Tony can't bear to have anyone messing with his building without being involved.  Neither of them expect to be quite so fascinated by what they find.





	Raptor Rescue

“What are you doing?”

Clint froze, and slowly lowered the screwdriver he was holding to the floor, twisting to peer over his shoulder at Tony while covering as much of the vent as possible with his torso.

“Nothing?” he tried, plastering his best innocent expression on his face.

Tony frowned.  “Why are you unscrewing the vent?  Jarvis sent me an alert.”

Clint groaned and gave up his pathetic effort to hide what he was doing.  He hadn't had any coffee yet so his life was difficult enough without Tony being Tony.  “I think there’s something in here,” he explained, picking up the screwdriver again.  “I keep on hearing noises.”

“There can’t be anything in there,” Tony objected.  “Jarvis would have picked up on it.”

“Actually, Sir, unlike the tower, my sensor coverage of the ventilation system on this base is minimal,” the AI interrupted.

Clint tuned out the argument between man and machine occurring three feet behind him and focused on getting the vent cover off.  He slid carefully inside, using a small penlight to illuminate the narrow space.

About an arm’s length inside the ventilation shaft, there was a small bundle of black and white feathers.  As gently as he could he gathered the bird into his hand and began to worm his way backwards.  Tony was still arguing with Jarvis, so he left the vent cover for now in favour of carrying the bird into the communal kitchen. 

It was a little tricky to get the bowls down one handed, but he managed without dropping anything on his head.  He lined the makeshift nest with a clean tea towel and some paper napkins and deposited the bird inside.  It wasn’t black and white, now that he had it out in the light, it was a dark brown and cream, and although his knowledge was admittedly limited, he thought that perhaps it was a raptor of some sort.  It certainly wasn’t a crow or a pigeon.

The bird seemed to be too exhausted to do much other than look at Clint warily with one yellow eye.  He offered it some water in a dish, which was ignored completely, and then had a brainwave and raided the fridge and cut a wing off of one of the raw chickens that was waiting to be cooked for dinner that night.

Small pieces of chicken wing were apparently significantly more palatable and the bird nearly took his fingers off pecking at the slivers of meat and bone he offered it.  Once the wing had disappeared in short order, Clint washed his hands and moved to put the vent back, only to find  that Tony was halfway inside it, still arguing with Jarvis, and appeared to be stuck.

“So, do you need a hand?” the archer asked. 

“That would be fantastic Merida, thank you,” the billionaire grunted.

With some pulling and a fair amount of cursing, Clint managed to extract Tony from his building and get the vent cover back in place.  They nearly lost one of the screws under the coffee table where Tony had inadvertently kicked it, but luckily Clint spotted it.

“So, there was nothing in there after all?” Tony asked.

Clint shook his head.  “You’re so unobservant.  There was a bird in there, it’s in the kitchen.”

The bird had found the energy to settle itself more comfortably and seemed a bit more alert.  Clint thought about offering it the other chicken wing, but decided to wait rather than risk overfeeding.  The bird didn't look injured at all, so maybe it was just ruffled from it's trip through the vents. 

“What is that?” Tony asked, fascinated.

“It’s a bird of prey of some kind.  Jarvis, can you ID it for us?”

“I believe it to be a juvenile sharp shinned hawk, sir.”

Tony gingerly reached out to touch a tail feather.  “It’s amazing.  I’ll have to check the covers on the ventilation intake, figure out how he got in.  What are you going to do now?”

Clint shrugged.  “Check its wings over and if it seems fine, let it go.  Maybe with a ring or something?  Jarvis, can you check what the protocols are when you come across a wild sharp shinned hawk?  Are they endangered?”

“They are not endangered, although as with many birds their numbers have declined recently.  They are primarily found in woodlands.”

“So, he probably just lives in the woods around the base and he got stuck in here,” Clint concluded.

“That seems likely, sir,” The AI agreed.

“I’ll take him outside and see what he does then,” the archer decided.

Decision made, he picked up the bowl carefully and began to walk to the nearest exit, which also happened to be the one closest to the treeline.  Tony trailed after him, his eyes still glued to the bird.

It was a sunny day with a light breeze that stirred the leaves and thinner branches, and made the birds feathers twist and stand on end.  Tentatively, expecting to be injured in some way whether by beak or talon, Clint slid his hand under the birds tail and nudged its yellow feet.  He breathed a sigh of relief when the raptor stepped back onto his fingers as if they had planned it.  He held his arm as steady as he could as he passed the bowl to Tony, who muttered something about being handed things but took it anyway.

The hawk stretched his wings out and resettled his feathers, looking around with sunshine bright eyes at the grounds.

“Do you wanna go?” Clint asked gently.  The bird turned and cocked his head to one side.  “Yeah?  Ok, let’s go them.”

“Maybe you should try to launch him?” Tony suggested.  “Could be he’d appreciate a bit of a boost.”

“I don’t want to hurt him if he can’t fly,” Clint replied, looking at the hawk’s wings.  The bird was preening his feathers with a sharp beak.

“We can’t stay out here forever.”

The bird weighed almost nothing, and Clint felt that he would be happy to stand there and be a perch for hours, but he didn’t contradict Tony.  He probably had something to invent down in the lab and hadn’t anticipated a feathered interlude to his day after all.

The hawk resolved the question for them as it used Clint’s arm to launch itself into the sky.  The two superheroes stood and watched as the bird swiftly disappeared into the trees.

“That was awesome,” Clint declared.  “Coffee.  I was distracted on my way to the coffee machine.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Tony declared, shoving the bowl back into his hands.  “I’ll make coffee and you can clean that out.  My coffee is better than yours.”

Clint opened his mouth to argue but realised that the last time he had tasted Tony’s coffee it had indeed tasted like manna from heaven, so he closed it again.  If Tony was willing to make him delicious hot coffee, he shouldn’t say anything that might stop that from happening.

“You realise that if we tell the others about this you’ll never hear the end of it?” Tony asked as they walked back into the kitchen.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s hilarious,” the billionaire insisted with his head in the fridge.  He emerged with a bag of coffee beans.  “Hawkeye rescued a hawk.”

Clint nodded.  “Ok, I can see the amusement.  Maybe we don’t tell people then?  Maybe this is our secret.”

“The secret hawk rescuers.  I like it.”

“Feathered Friends.”

“Talon Caretakers.”

“The Raptor Rescue Society.”

“The Reclusive Raptor Rescue Society!”

Clint grinned as he dumped the paper napkins in the recycling bin.  “Let’s go with that one.  How’s that coffee coming?”

**Author's Note:**

> Currently just a random snip of a fic, but I do feel like this would be a nice beginning to a longer story. I'll see if the plot bunnies bite.


End file.
